


Redribbon Foxes

by garrisonbabe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Life Partners, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 10:17:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garrisonbabe/pseuds/garrisonbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second entry for the Destiel Advent Calendar on tumblr.</p><p>From the time they were kids, Dean's always loved Christmas with Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redribbon Foxes

**Author's Note:**

> As stated, second entry for the [Destiel Advent Calendar](http://destieladventcalendar.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. This was piece ten today. The calendar is pretty much done, but there's a slew of presents, so go take a look.
> 
> Fluff fest, pretty much. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Own nothing, it's all Kripke
> 
> Also, here's the song by A Fine Frenzy that inspired this, [Redribbon Foxes](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=03yAzrR-l4o)

**December 25th, 1986 – 5:00 am**

Dean crept down the stairs, watching out for any signs of grown-ups or anything else that would give him away. He was seven years-old and he was on a Christmas mission: get downstairs to the tree and get Cas one of his presents early so they could celebrate before everyone else woke up. Cas was living with them because his house caught fire. Their father died getting him and his brother Michael out. Their mom had been dead since shortly after Cas was born. Michael was living with their Uncle Gabriel. Dean has pitched a fit because Gabriel lived far away and he thought he was going to lose Cas. Turned out Cas was throwing the same fit, so Gabriel let him stay so long as John and Mary said it was okay. They agreed without hesitation.

Dean slipped across the hardwood in his socks, he was already a pro at sock-skating. He’d teach Sammy when his little brother was old enough. Yesterday he raced Cas up and down the hall while John and Mary wrapped the last of their presents. He was totally okay with admitting that his best friend was a little better at it than him, but only a little.

He approached the tree with care, it was covered in lights and ornaments. Christmas was awesome. The boxes under the tree were stacked carefully, but Dean already knew which one he was looking for. It was wrapped in dark blue paper, kind of messily but hey, Dean was only seven after all. He wrapped his hands around it and pulled it from under the tree, everything else remaining right where it was.

The stairs were a little creaky, but Dean was careful and no one was the wiser by the time he got back to the room he shared with Cas. His blue-eyed friend was in his bed, cuddling one of Dean’s pillows. Dean rolled his eyes and snorted, closing the door as quietly as possible. Cas had his own bed, but he and Dean shared a lot. When they shared Cas didn’t get nightmares and Dean wasn’t as cold, so it was a win/win situation.

He crawled into bed, ambling over Cas really awkwardly. A muffled _mrrrhphh_ let him know he’d woken the other boy up. Castiel rubbed his eyes and sat up unsteadily, swaying a little from side to side.

“Dean? What are you doing up? It’s still dark.” His voice was still rough from smoke damage, scratchy but definitely the Cas he remembered.

“Got you this.” Dean held the box out and Cas’ eyes widened. He looked between the present and Dean, chewing his chapped lower lip before taking it with a smile.

“Thank you, Dean. You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to, so I did. It’s from me. Open it, Feather-boy.”

Castiel giggled and tore the paper away from the slender package. When it was completely opened he slammed one hand to his mouth, trying not to hyper-ventilate. He bounced in the bed and tossed the book onto Dean’s pillows, launching himself at his friend to hug him tightly. Dean laughed and hugged him back, trying to breathe through Cas’ excited embrace. Guy was like an ocotopus.

“C’mon OctoCas, I can’t breathe!” He laughed despite his protests and squeezed Cas again before letting him sit up.

Cas picked his gift back up and looked at it in awe. “A book about bees.” There was a wide smile plastered to his face and Dean thought that even if he got in trouble for sneaking a gift early he wouldn’t care. It was worth it to see his best friend smile like that.

—

**December 24th, 1996 3:42 pm**

Dean sat beside Cas on the park bench, it was snowing heavily and he was freezing but none of that mattered. The roads had been too bad to actually drive the previous week, so it was the first opportunity for them to visit the memorial to Cas’ parents in cemetery. Cas would usually just sit there and stare off into space, but something seemed to be eating at him. The benches were covered in snow, just like everything else. Grave markers were piled up, some completely buried. Off in the distance a stone angel was weeping snowflakes.

Dean looked back to Cas, his friend’s black hair was lightly dusted in snow, his collar too. Occasionally snow would shake off and filter into his shirt, but Cas didn’t move or make any attempt to find cover from the fluffy downpour.

It was almost painfully silent. What could he say? His friend’s parents were dead, Dean didn’t know what that was like. He hoped Cas had been happy with them, his brother was on the other side of the country, but they tried. Dean tried.

Cas looked at him, long ago he’d stopped being depressed when they visited. Anymore he was just glad for the tradition, Dean thought. He didn’t look sad, at least. Dean couldn’t help thinking that if his parents died he’d never stop mourning. Cas always was a bit stronger than him, better than him. That was why after high school Cas would leave. Maybe he’d go and live with his brother and his uncle and go to a big school and be somebody. But he wouldn’t stay in Lawrence. He just wouldn’t.

Or maybe it was all some illusion Dean had created. He had a way of making the best things in his life into the worst. But dammit… he loved him. Yeah, it was stupid, the guy was his best friend since for-fucking-ever and it was Dean’s bed he’d slept in after the fire when they were little and this was his best fucking friend! How could he have been so stupid? Cas didn’t date and even if he did he wouldn’t date Dean. Guy was probably straight. Probably. The thing with Meg was most likely just a bad judgment call and the disgust he’d seen after the kiss was probably just him being drunk and hopeful.

What else can you be when you’re in love with your best friend?

Cas was still just staring at him, but he was used to it. Dean wrapped his hand around the small box in his jacket pocket and pulled it out. It was long and covered in black velvet. He handed it to Cas.

“Probably not the best time, but the house is gonna be a wreck when we make it back.”

Cas tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took the offered gift. Dean was nervous, just like always when giving Cas a gift. It wasn’t like he couldn’t read Cas or didn’t know what to get him, but Christmas always seemed like a big thing and presents were always hard. He watched his best friend open the box, his eyes going wide as saucers while a large, cloudy huff of surprise punched its way from his mouth.

“Dean…” His voice trailed off, blue eyes snapping back to Dean’s face.

Dean smiled sheepishly and laughed. “I uh, I saw you eyeing it at the mall, got it last week.”

Cas pulled the large silver watch out of the jewelry box and slipped it onto his slender wrist. Dean wanted to grab his hand, hold it and admire the watch but that wasn’t the kind of thing someone did with their best friend. Neither was pining, but one out of two wasn’t that bad. His friend caressed the cold metal with careful fingers, ghosting around the glass face.

“It’s perfect, Dean. Thank you.” Cas looked back up at him and maybe Dean had a fucking breakdown for a few seconds because he lost all control over himself. Cas’ eyes were glassy, almost like the watch was his most precious possession or something and it slammed into his chest. He always did that, Dean would give him something and he just treasured it like everything Dean did was important. So yeah, Dean lost it for a fraction of a second and leaned forward to kiss his best friend.

It was so stupid but if it was the last thing he ever did with Cas he wouldn’t regret it. His lips were soft and dry, chapped from the winter weather and cold from being beaten by the wind. At some point one of his hands went up to cup Cas’ jaw and the feeling of stubble against his fingers snapped him back to reality.

He stood abruptly and backed away from the bench. “Fuck! Cas, I am so sorry!”

Cas stood and grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to stand still in the middle of the icy walkway. Dean looked off in the distance, where the remains of Cas’ dead parents were freezing under the dirt. So, great, not only did he kiss his best friend but he did it while they visited his parents’ grave. Fantastic.

“Dean?” Cas was trying to make eye contact but Dean couldn’t do it.

“I’m sorry, I get it if you want to forget that even happened and if you don’t want to talk ab—“

He was cut off by one of Cas’ hands grabbing his jaw to pull him into another kiss. His fingers were freezing, probably numb and it was a bright shock against the hot breath pouring over his face from Cas’ nose. The shock wore off after a second and Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel desperately, pulling him close enough that the zippers of their coats snagged against each other. Cas started smiling and Dean smiled in return, their lips pulling apart even as their faces stayed pressed close.

“I don’t care if you tell, Dean. I want to tell everyone.”

—

**December 25th, 1999 7:28 pm**

Dean sat down on the lumpy, tan couch Cas bought when they got their apartment together. Just like he’d predicted at seventeen, Cas was going to a big school and doing things with his life. What he hadn’t predicted was that the guy swore he wouldn’t leave without Dean. So Dean was sitting in a small Seattle apartment, grease from his job at the garage still under his nails while Cas made hot chocolate. He’d gotten off the phone with Sam earlier and promised he and Cas would make it out for New Year’s. Leave it to his little brother to actually convince him to fly. The little bitch.

It was silly now, but for some reason he’d been nervous about everyone finding out about him and Cas when they were in high school. Turned out that was just plain dumb because everyone had been taking bets since the two of them were five as to when they’d start dating. Assholes, all of them.

Cas sat down with him, giant sweater hanging off of his frame. It wasn’t that Cas was a small guy, it was that Dean was bigger and his boyfriend had a penchant for buying Dean sweaters only to steal them a short while later. Dean thought the only reason he got to wear them at all was so they could smell like him. For some reason Cas was crazy enough not to mind the smell of grease, sweat and leather. He took a large mug from Cas and sipped at the scalding liquid inside. The heater was busted. Again. He could practically see his breath when he breathed, but it did have a plus in the fact that OctoCas would make an appearance in bed that night. As much as he’d complain, Dean really did love holding Cas and being held onto.

Earlier in the day they’d gone to various parties with friends and spent almost all day on the phone. They hadn’t had much time to themselves but it was okay, they had every other day with each other. Even when Cas was swamped with projects for school (double major, really?) and Dean was working overtime they still managed. More than once he’d come home to find a note left on the oven door to let him know the library had a pair of blue eyes that were bloodshot and hopped up on black tea. Inside the oven was usually his dinner or a pie. Something homemade because Cas wasn’t actually human, he was actually some angel that took a wrong-turn before getting to the gates of Heaven and crashed landed into Dean’s life.

Truthfully, Dean didn’t see enough good happening to believe in God or angels, but he believed in Cas and Cas believed so that was enough. Cas sipped his drink and smiled warmly to Dean. It was a wide smile that only Dean got and he treasured it jealously. The world could do whatever, throw whatever it wanted their way because at the end of the day it would still be him and his best friend sitting on an old lumpy couch, drinking hot chocolate.

“You look like you’re having an existential crisis, Dean.” Castiel chuckled softly and wrapped himself tighter in the comforter they shared. It was a well-practiced move that put him so close to Dean he was almost in the other man’s lap. Not that Dean would ever complain.

Dean laughed and shook his head, reaching into his pants pocket for Cas’ gift. Money had been tight, but he did his best. “Close your eyes.” Cas squinted, smiling suspiciously before complying. Dean lifted his hand out of his pocket and dropped Cas’ present into his palm. “Okay, open.”

Castiel opened his eyes and gaped at the pile of crystal and silver in his hand. He covered his mouth and stared in awe of the heavy rosary that was draped over his pale skin. After a moment he collected himself enough to straighten it out and examine it more closely.

Cas shook his head and tried to shove it back at Dean. “Dean, this belonged to your grandmother, I could never—“

“You can and you will.” Dean gently closed his fingers around Cas’ hand, forcing him to accept the heirloom. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather give it to. You’ve always loved it and you believe in that stuff more than I do. Please, Cas, I need you to take it.” _Need you to know you’re more important than some chunks of rock and metal._

“Dean…” Tears fell from Castiel’s eyes, a smile crinkling the edges as he sniffed roughly. “Okay.” His voice was soft, scratchy like always and reverent. He nodded pulled his hand back to look at what constituted Dean’s most prized possession. “Okay.” He repeated, more finality in his tone than there had been before.

“Good.” Dean watched Cas’ eyes skim over the glinting mass, the blue of them reflecting the light of the room even more brilliantly than the stones in his hand. “I love you, Cas.”

Castiel looked up, shocked. Dean never really said it before. He knew Cas knew but he didn’t make it a point to say it that often. Maybe he should.

“I love you, too, Dean.”

—

**December 25th, 2009 6:00 am**

Normally Dean didn’t make an effort to get up so early, but he knew Cas would be cooking and that they would be hosting Christmas dinner for the family. Perks and curse of having the largest house. The smell of cinnamon and pumpkin was already heavy in the air. If Cas was making a pumpkin roll Dean might just buy him a damn palace. The store had been out of pumpkin but somehow he doubted that would ever stop a determined Castiel Novak. You just did _not_ get in the way of hurricane Cas.

It was barely light out, snow drifting down slowly. After college they moved back to Lawrence, buying a house with money they’d saved up while Cas worked on his master’s. They never left after that, Cas started teaching high school and Dean owned a few mechanic’s shops around the state. All in all he loved his life.

The bedside table was cast in an angry red glow from his alarm clock, the rosary he gave Cas a decade ago sitting next to it. Somehow Cas was still amazed that Dean gave it to him. He wasn’t sure why, he’d have thought he’d made it clear years before that Cas was the most important thing to him.

Getting out of bed was slow-going. The sheets were warm, Cas’ pillow still smelling like him. After almost falling back asleep he threw the comforter away and forced himself to wake up in the chill of their room. The apartment in Seattle started a trend of leaving the heater off in winter. It wasn’t an excuse to cuddle, it was saving money on the electric bill.

Dean all but jumped the short distance from their bed to the dresser. He slipped into a pair of sweats and long-sleeved undershirt. His feet were freezing, but he just didn’t have the patience for socks. Christmas was hectic and he needed to use the short calm before the oncoming storm Winchester to give Cas his gift.

A small, light blue satin bag sat in his hand and despite the weight of its contents it still felt impossibly weightless. At thirty years old Dean wasn’t sure if he was crazy or idealistic. He only hoped Cas would like it. The bag was slipped into his pocket carefully, his hand patting the area three times before he was convinced it was really there.

Down in the kitchen Cas was indeed making pumpkin roll and there was a pie cooling on the dining table. Dean needed to start looking into large mansions made of diamond for the guy. He did that every year. He made so much food that even Dean’s mom was hard pressed to figure out how. It was all delicious, too. A very small, greedy part of Dean was selfish enough to like that Sam was a bit jealous, despite Jess being pretty skilled in the kitchen as well.

His dark hair was messy, messier than usual because of a light dusting of flour, and he was wearing the apron Dean bought as a joke but secretly adored. White, satiny with fluffy lace trim. Sam was still annoyed that he couldn’t make fun of Cas for it. Dean smirked, he always had a level head when he was made fun of by Sam.

Cas was singing softly, the sound of sizzling food his only companion. He wasn’t sure what the song was, but it was definitely Christmassy if the tune was any indication. _“For faith doesn’t come in boxes, nor God in your silver cross, those redribbon foxes are not so easy caught.”_

Dean stepped behind him silently, wrapping his arms around his slender waist. Cas startled, hand flying to his chest as he panted heavily. Dark brown hair tickled his nose as he kissed the pale skin behind Cas’ ear.

“Hey, you.” His voice was still a little husky with sleep, the fog of an early Christmas morning probably wouldn’t lift until he had at least one cup of coffee (or tea that he’d never admit to later).

Cas turned around, looping his arms around Dean’s neck. They smiled at each other a little giddily and leaned in for a kiss at the same time. Dean sighed, content with the feel of lips on his first thing in the morning.

One floury hand cupped his jaw, a light handprint probably left behind that Dean would wash off with a goofy smile. Cas broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to Dean’s. “I didn’t expect you up so early.”

Dean slipped one hand into his pocket, his heart beat picking up the moment he felt the satin against his fingers. His breathing was hard to control, he wanted nothing more than to panic and wait, but if he did that he’d lose his balls and talk himself out of it. He cleared his throat to try and steady his voice, even without speaking he knew it would shake.

“Wanted to give you your gift early.” He spoke in a near-whisper, that being the only way the nervousness clenching tight in his chest wouldn’t be betrayed.

Taking a short step out of Cas’ arms, he pulled the small pouch free. He licked hip lips nervously, eyes flitting all across the man in front of him. When he held it out to Cas his chest only felt more constricted, like the Impala fell on him suddenly and this was only a fever-dream he was having just before he died. He knew Cas could tell he was nervous, he always was with gifts, so he probably didn’t understand just how much panic was pulsing sickly hot through Dean’s skin. Long fingers gracefully plucked the small bit of fabric from his sweaty hands.

A small smile was tugging at the corner of Cas’ mouth and Dean did his best not to freak out any further. If that smile disappeared, he didn’t know what he’d do. The draw string was loosened and the bag upended into Cas’ palm.

A pair of blue eyes snapped to his, wide and frantic as they stared in disbelief. “Dean?” His voice was so small and Dean couldn’t help it when a few stray tears fell down his cheeks.

“I uh, I’ve spent practically my whole damn life with you, was kind of hoping we could just… I don’t know… have something official, I guess?” He could barely hear himself, his mind was numb and buzzing all at once, the tightness in his chest only getting worse as the silent seconds ticked on audibly from the stove’s timer.

Castiel stared at a pair of rings in his palm, one made of silver and the other of rose gold. He picked them up with such care that they may as well have been made of spun-sugar. The inside of the silver band was engraved in cursive with the initials CJN and on the outside of the band a pair of angel wings and a small halo were carved into the surface. The inside of the gold ring was inscribed with the letters DW and the outside was inlayed with a circular star sapphire.

Dean cleared his throat, trying to find the nerve to speak. “The, uh, the silver one’s mine. Has your initials and the wings and halo ‘cause I always used to call you Angel. I know you always liked rose gold best, so I got yours in, uh, rose gold and those are my initials. Obviously. Um, the star sapphire was something your brother gave me when I asked him for permission a few months back. Said it was the only thing left of your mom’s. I uh, I hope you’re okay with—“ Dean was cut off by a suffocating hug and a crushing kiss from the man in front of him.

They were both crying, barely managing to get in a decent kiss before pulling away to take in deep, shuddering breaths. Dean clutched to the man in front of him just as desperately as he had when he was seventeen, unsure and frightened in an old cemetery.

Both of their faces were wet, streaked with tears and lightly flushed. The hand with the rings was in a tight fist behind Dean’s shoulders and Castiel was sobbing into the crook of his neck. They’d talked about it years before, but Dean had always blown it off. He didn’t truly understand until he and Cas went to Sam’s wedding and then Michael’s. Then he understood perfectly and vowed on Cas’ thirtieth that by his next birthday he’d have a ring.

Eventually Cas managed to stop crying and pull back enough to look Dean in the eye. His were bloodshot, the blue standing out against the pink in a way that made them look inhuman. They were always so beautiful. Dean could almost feel the way Cas was searching over him, his reflection in the dark blue a physical weight against his skin.

A wide smile broke Cas’ normally calm features. Tears were already springing up again, despite the five minutes he spent soaking Dean’s shirt. He sniffed hard, a horribly undignified sound that made Dean grin even wider in return.

“Of course, Dean.” If Dean hadn’t felt the pounding of his blood in his veins he could have sworn he’d had a heart-attack the moment Castiel spoke.

They slipped the rings on, the pink band fitting snuggly at the base of Cas’ left ring finger, bright and impossible to miss. The silver shining against Dean’s tan skin was surreal, almost foggy in his vision, like it might disappear at a moment’s notice. Where before his chest had felt constricted it was now light and airy, a very tangible warmth spreading through him.

Dean cupped Cas’ jaw with his left hand, already loving the way he could feel the silver warm with the touch. He kissed Cas on the forehead, breathing deeply as his nose was buried in messy, floury hair. Everything was perfect.


End file.
